


These Are the Days of Our Lives

by ItsRocknRoll



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Assassins vs. Templars, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gen, Hamon - Freeform, Jackie loves everyone, Jacob is trying to be a good dad to his five kids, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 1: Phantom Blood, Jonathan is a sweetheart, M/M, More Erina moments cause she's best girl, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Slight m/m moments, Vampires, victorian london
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-09-28 21:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsRocknRoll/pseuds/ItsRocknRoll
Summary: Two decades of unusual events Jacqueline Harlow will face, alongside with her husband, Jacob Frye. London's in the deep pits of hell and chaos, politics, economic issues, and crimes committed to survive or for entertainment for a corrupted Parliament. Templar Grand Master Crawford Starrick is on the hunt for an artifact that will grant him immortality, anticipating the next generation of bedlam.However, this all leads to the Joestar family and their involvement in this chaotic war. Jonathan Joestar was only two years old when he met the determined redheaded ally, both of them creating a platonic bond of love and support. Though, the Joestar and Harlow fate ties together to their battles against the Templars, vampires, and the undead. Hoping at the end, they truly see the great importance of family.





	1. Shall We?

_ 1870 — London _

“Let me go!”

The slums of Whitechapel, it was always such a sight and an extraordinary visit. The population is crowded with the poor people of London, all working in the smaller factories and begging bystanders for change. It’s where Jacqueline Harlow started it all, with her allies—well close friends now.

“Kid, you took my partner’s wallet. Give it back and you can go.” Jacqueline placed a hand on her hip, her other one still grabbing onto the child’s shirt.

A blonde child, hair untamed, he struggles to get out from her grip. The boy is too young to be out in the streets stealing scraps.

“No!”

“You know you’re not going anywhere without returning that wallet.”

“I need money, I need it for the lads down at Ogre Street.” He begged, “Please miss.”

Jacqueline pinches the bridge of her nose “The wallet, then I will tell you what you can do.”

“Wait really?!” He widened his eyes, he stopped fighting “You’re just letting me go without taking me to the station?”

“Yes… Now hand it over before I tell you.” She beckoned for the wallet, earning a hesitation as the boy places it on her palm. Jacqueline tucks it in her pocket as she crouches down to his level.

“I know you kids are hungry, but my partner needs his money to support our family and friends. However, there are some bad rich folks who don’t even care for you guys.” She forces him to turn around, pointing at the marketplace in the distance. “See there? The merchant with the blotched apron? He’s a nasty one, he won’t give anything to the poor no matter what. He’s also rude to customers.”

The boy gasps “Why is he still doing business, miss?”

“The rich are always in charge, they only give scraps to the poor. No food, nothing. Now, call some of your friends to carry out fruit crates below his table. You may be able to find some meat in the icebox as well.”

“Whoa, really?” The blond boy grinned, turning around to grab onto her shoulders.

“Mhm… Run along now, I’m sure dinner is soon to be prepared.” Jacqueline rose to stand, gesturing towards the marketplace.

“Oh um thank you, miss! What’s your name?”

She displays quick salute “Jacqueline Harlow, at your service.” After she runs off, leaving the young boy alone—beaming with joy, he hurries back to Ogre Street to give a word about their dinner tonight. 

It’s been almost five years ever since she met Jacob and Evie Frye. Back in 1866, when she was only nineteen and still the youthful girl she still is today. The twin Assassins watching over London with their mentor, Henry Green. She was sent by her uncle, Grayson Harlow: known brutal Master Assassin; to meet with the Frye twins to create their alliance.

Three years of her training improved her knowledge of combat and weaponry. Four years of falling in love with Jacob and giving birth to their first child in 1869.

All that teaching wore off when she and the brash twin confronted Rupert Ferris a month ago. Who revealed the real culprit of London’s corrupted system, Crawford Starrick. The Grand Master of the Templar Order.

Since the death of Ferris—they still need to finish the rest of the cutthroats. Jacqueline is no Assassin, though made a decision to become one after those lengthy years. Continuing the family tradition as the heir of the Harlow family. Keeping the hidden blade her uncle gave her to keep as his memory and useful for her combat.

Passing by the busy roads and snorting horses, the redhead made her way through an alley. Weaving past walkers, catching a familiar voice. Two voices, cursing at each other. Closer and closer, the tones increased as Jacqueline reach to the corner of the alleyway, witnessing Jacob slamming a Templar against the wall. Nose all bloodied up, his teeth covered in red.

“Jacob.” She called, earning a quick glimpse from the Assassin. Only to have him face the Templar once more.

“You don’t want to lose your nose, do you?” Jacob threatened, his fingers clutching on the enemy’s jacket hard.

“You think I’ll tell you?! After all this beating?”

Another strike is delivered at his nose “Speak. Why do you have these families listed in your book?”

Jacqueline tugs out her revolver, hoping the clicking of each mechanic is clear enough for the Templar to hear. Her bullets filling up each empty socket—glancing at the man who locked his eyes on her firearm.

“I know one of ‘em got something important, it belongs to us.”

“Which is?” Jacqueline asked while beckoning her partner to pass her the notebook. She takes it as she flips it open, eyeing through the names of wealthy families. All residing in Westminster or the Strand. A couple living outside of London.

“None of your damn business!”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Jacob threw him against the wall again, watching him slip to his knees. Jacqueline knew about his enormous strength, perhaps the strongest man she’s ever met.

“You work with the rich? Why are you after these wealthy families?”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? One of ‘em has an important artifact Mister Starrick is searching. I think your family knows who they are, Jacqueline Harlow.”

She furrowed her brows, skimming through the names again “No. I do not.”

The man chuckles, spitting out blood “Ever heard of the name, Joestar?”

_ Joestar?! _Jacqueline gasps as she recalls that name, the hatred her family has against them. Their generations of rivalry, until now, Jacqueline is the remaining Harlow to continue their bloodline.

“Why are you after Mister Star?”

“No, Joestar, the last name… I—” She stops herself, furrowing her brows. She never mentioned any of the rivalries to Jacob. Her beloved and most trustworthy. “Take him to the carriage, Abberline will handle him.”

Jacob drags the man up, forcing him to walk with his fist against his back. One move, his hidden blade will pierce his flesh.

“Your family got some tension huh? Since the Harlows hate the Joestars, why don’t you work with us?!”

“Please shut up,” Jacqueline growled, opening the carriage door as the twin threw him inside—slamming shut.

The mentions of the Joestars brought back to her childhood—the constant laughter and arguments her family brought up. How much her grandparents loathe their family—even her own father. Who’s more level headed than her uncle Grayson. Naomi, her mother, has said a lot of profanity towards them. 

Her aunt Beatrice hates the petty rivalry.

Jacob hopped on the carriage next to Jacqueline, who glances away. He sighs, grabbing her hand and kissing it softly “Rest.”

She smiles weakly, rubbing her thumb against his cheek scar. 

Sometimes the redhead couldn’t believe she fell in love with the brash twin. Their first impressions weren’t the best, though she held no grudge. He didn’t expect to actually love her and have a child. Perhaps have another, as the Assassin would want to become a better father figure, as he did not have a close bond with his father: Ethan Frye.

“Who the hell is Joestar?” Jacob asked, making a sharp turn to pass the incoming carriages. 

“The enemies of our family. My mother told me they’re thieves and stole our old manor. The reason why my ancestors moved to Kent, farther away from London. The Joestars claimed we’re barbaric and insane, due to our alliance to the Brotherhood.”

“What? So, how long has this been going on?”

“For generations—our ancestors must have started this whole situation.”

“And it hasn’t stopped?” Jacob furrowed his brows “Jackie—why haven’t you done anything?”

She snorts into laughter “Dear, you know my family would kill me if I ever communicate with a Joestar. Grayson admits he never hated them, he agreed with my aunt Beatrice thinking it’s petty to hate a family from what happened ages ago.” Jacqueline lowers her head, “I don’t want us to be enemies… I don’t want this to keep happening.”

“How about you marry a Joestar? Problems solved!”

“No!” She blushed, covering her cheeks “I would create more _ problems_, Jacob!”

Jacob shakes his head in amusement, “Don’t fret… I wanted to lift up your mood. Did it work?”

She beams, listening to those words made her shoulders relax—leaning to kiss his cheek “You joker, of course, you did. That’s why I love you.”

“Love you too—now, we have to make sure these other men don’t go after any more families. And prevent them from the artifact.” The twin smirked, always up for challenges. 

“Well, what is it that they’re after? Seems like this man is desperate.” Jacqueline pursed her lips, staring at her hands on her lap. 

“He did claim Starrick is searching for it. Whatever it is, we have to get it first.”

“We’ll go back home and tell Ephraim and Evie, maybe they’ll give us a hand to find the other culprits.” The redhead uttered, “Make sure Julian is in bed by then.”

“Another night shift? What’s gotten you so busy?” Jacob bantered as he received a playful push.

“Well! We both have a son and make sure he’s safe from the danger we’re facing.”

“Oooh, how heroic of you, Jacqueline Faith.”

She grew flush from his sultry tone in his voice, saying her full name instead of her nickname. “Jacob, don’t make me blush.”

“That’s my goal.” The brash twin smirked, whipping the reins as he sat back. Taking the last word but the last chance to make his beloved grow into a flustered mess.

* * *

_ London — The Strand: Residence _

Sun’s setting, it’s either time for workers to go home to their families or Londoners preparing themselves to go to their local pub. That’s what Ephraim Scott ponders, carrying back the food and items through the quiet streets of the Strand. It wasn’t like Whitechapel anymore, although he missed the insanity and chaos around there.

“Afternoon Mister Scott!” Shouted someone across the road, a Rook—apart of the Frye twin’s syndicate. Most of them know Ephraim due to his closeness with Evie, sometimes teasing him when he’s holding her hand. The _gentleman _they always call him, though he does not think he is.

He is considering becoming an ally after these four years, knowing he’ll go past his life as a gentleman.

“You as well!” Ephraim called back with a grin, weaving past the wealthy ladies as they giggled from his charming appearance. Some ogling his height, perhaps the tallest man they have seen in the Strand, standing at six feet and four inches tall. 

He reaches his new home, bought by his family including Jacqueline’s. The architecture is far different from the small flat in Whitechapel, more rooms to spare, and of course, privacy. He and Jacqueline are both raised in upper-class homes when they were younger—they never cared about their wealth. It made them both feel guilty as many Londoners are living in the slums or tight spaces. 

Ephraim misses Whitechapel due to the many smiles he sees. No matter their conditions, they’re thankful for living in such a vulnerable city. The Strand was no different, but everyone believes there’s always competition. To see who’s the best and whoever earns the most money in one night.

“Uncle Ephie!” Called a familiar voice, a little redheaded boy standing by his doorstep.

“Jude!” Ephraim called as he places the food down, running towards Jacqueline’s son and picking him up to hug him.

Julian Ephraim Frye, only one-year-old and an eager fellow. The day when was born, Ephraim was stunned for his best friend to name the boy after him. Looking after him as Jacob and Jacqueline are out for their missions.

“Did you miss me?” The tall ally asked, earning a nod from the child.

“Jude?” Evie Frye walked out of the door, stopping her step as she saw Ephraim “Oh there you are_ — _and it’s all your fault, Mister Scott.” She prodded her finger against the tall man’s chest as a tease. He scrunched up his nose to tease her back.

“I’ll take in the food, take the child back inside.” She chuckled.

He carries Julian, heading to the kitchen to grab a fresh apple from the fruit basket. “What were you up to today?”

Julian pointed at the kitchen table. Food Evie made, he was there the whole time playing with some marbles Grayson gifted on his first birthday. Evie returns with the crate as she huffs out her cheeks.

“Jackie’s family were coming over but never did,” The twin mentioned, approaching closer to the tall man, tugging his shirt to lower himself as she kisses his cheek. “Jackie and Jacob are doing another night shift, they said they’ll both put Julian in bed before we leave..”

“I see,” Ephraim exhales through his nose, glancing at the redheaded boy with a brisk shrug “Mind if I join you?”

Evie glances at her partner, smirking as she remembers how much he begged to work with her. Scrawny yet stupid, no matter what. However, years passed as he managed to train sometimes with Evie. More self-defense and build up muscle.

She’s impressed with his work so far.

“Of course you can dear,” Evie grinned as she sets the food out on the counter, having to organize them. Killing some time before her brother and partner return from their mission.

Ephraim returns the smile, eyes gazing around the kitchen. Larger and roomier for the whole household. His heart aches from nostalgic moments when Henry Green was still living with them. When they all sat together in such a small kitchen, yet, they spoke for hours.

“Evie.” He uttered, “Do you ever miss living in Whitechapel?”

The twin stops herself, looking over her shoulder “What brought you thinking about it?”

Ephraim exhales through his nose, noting Julian playing with his orange tie “Memories we had there. We were all like children before we find out about Starrick. Before Henry left London.” He scrapes his heel against the floorboards “I miss him, I miss those years.”

“Ephraim,” the twin approached towards him, tucking his free hand in both of her palms. Julian tilting his head, quizzical what the couple is saying.

“Those may have been your golden days but look at us now. Jacob and Jackie both have Julian, Grayson is safe, Henry is doing great in India, and we…” She stopped herself “Well you, you’re braver than before.”

“Goddammit Evie,” the tall ally looks away, his cheeks growing rose bushes as the twin laughs. Pressing her palms against both of his cheeks, teasing him by squishing them.

“I’m tired uncleeeee,” Julian yawns as Ephraim pats his back as he rests onto his shoulder.

“Don’t you want to see your mum and pa?” He asked, bringing Julian’s attention right back to him.

“That’s a yes, love.” Evie pursed her lips, taking the redheaded boy in her arms. “Get ready, we have another date ahead.”

“Will we ever have a normal date? You know, me taking you somewhere nice?”

“Ephraim you know there’s danger everywhere if we do. If I take a dress, how else am I supposed to save you?”

The blonde broaden his eyes momentarily, growing flustered as he looks away again. “Look after the child please.”

The twin smirks as she paces back to the counter to organize the food while carrying her nephew, although he’s resting his head on her shoulder.


	2. I Feel an Odd Warmth Toward You

_ London — High Kensington Station _

The churning seas of London, even at night when everyone is supposed to go home. Or take a drink at their local pubs. Jacob and Jacqueline had their fun sneaking out at night and travel around Agnes Macbean’s locomotive, also known as their infamous train hideout. Memories, what Ephraim remembers, he missed them. Everyone was together and bright, the news of Starrick and a corrupted London brought them all down.

At the moment, the train is delayed due to the lack of steam and coal. The rich waiting for a carriage ride home, the poor having to walk or wait for the train to get fixed. 

A young boy presses his palms against the windows of the station, watching every Londoner passing by, his bright sapphire blue eyes glancing at the architecture of the site, signs that advertises Crawford Starrick’s business. The omnibuses, the horses trotting the cobblestone roads, it caught his attention.

“Jojo?”

Jonathan Joestar turns away from the window, looks over to his mother, Mary Joestar, reaching out her hand. Her height is estimated to be five feet and ten inches, wearing her dark hair behind into bundles comfortably. 

A grin appears on her son’s face, clutching onto her hand as the two walked back to where George Joestar is waiting, her husband, rubbing his temples.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, Jonathan tilting his head. He noted his father is distressed.

“The trains have been shut down for the night, we have to get back home soon. You still have work to do.” George explained, Mary reaches to his shoulder, gently squeezing. 

“Don’t fret dear, my research can be held off for a while.” Her eyes dart around the station, observing many empty coaches were standing by the curb of the entrance. “Let’s take a carriage, it’s not too far from here.”

George gesticulates his agreement “You’re right, although I wanted to make sure we get back home to put Jojo in bed—” he froze immediately as he became aware he might be missing something… Or someone.

“Jojo?!” He panicked.

Mary squeezes her palm where she was holding his, nowhere to be found “Jonathan!”

The curious two year old weaves through the legs of the bystanders. He hasn’t seen this many people in one area. Not even since their trip in France. 

A puppy sitting nearby, ears perking up as they seem to be waiting for its owner. 

“Ah!” Jonathan grinned widely as he ran towards them, stopping his tracks as two men crashed against each other, dropping their belongings.

“Watch it!”

“What the? You ran into me!”

Jonathan couldn’t squeeze past the commotion, no one noticed the small boy either way. One of the men had their legs spread, giving him access to escape the crowd.

He crawl between the man’s legs, rising back to his feet, going back on task to find the puppy.

Running to them, the young Joestar bumps into a pair of legs. Wearing all black and red, dropping his cane due to Jonathan. 

“Oi! Watch where you going boy!” He lifts a hand as the young Joestar jumps back. 

“Jojo!” Mary panicked as she picked him up, clutching him close to her chest. “Stop! He’s my son!”

“That thing made me drop me cane, you wouldn’t want your little boy missing now do you?”

Mary wasn’t like George. She’s assertive, not a negotiator like her gentle husband. Narrowing her eyes, she ponders the man’s use of words.

“How dare you?! Don’t ever speak like that in front of my son! Do you understand?!”

“Mary please!” George blocks her away from the man with his body—Jonathan kept hugging his mother. “Don’t do this,” he begged.

She lowered her eyelids, exhaling through his nose in defeat “Alright.”

“My apologies sir.” George sighs in relief as he leads the two away from him. The man furrows his brows as he scrutinized the elder Joestar’s appearance. The dark hair, well postured, the towering height, and his posh accent.

The man rubs the red cross on the bulb of his cane, reminding himself the Templars are after wealthy families due to an artifact. Slyly, he follows the family—who are going to the main entrance of the station.

He stands by the nearest light pole, back facing them, ears cautiously listening.

“Coach?” The driver asked as he gestures to the carriage.

George gave him a smile “Please, the train has been delayed for quite a while now.”

“A bummer, I know. Though, your outfits don’t scream London’s slum fashion!” He chuckled, rubbing his knuckles against his coat “Wealthy family are ya?”

“You could say,” Mary shrugged “You think you can take us all home now? My son is about to sleep.”

“You have my word, name’s Stevie!” The driver gave George a firm shake.

“George Joestar, it’s a pleasure.”

“Excellent, alright get in the coach, we got a nice stroll ahead.”

The man shot up his head, the family has already got inside as he frantically search for a nearby Blighter. “Joestar! It’s them!”

He runs towards a Blighter having a cigar break, shaking him with force “I got a job for you, make sure to give this message to Starrick’s allies—the Joestar family are making their way through the streets of London, they’re in a royal blue carriage with an ashen colored horse!”

The Blighter puts out his cigar with the step of his foot “Which ally?”

“Wilfred Griffiths should be lurking around somewhere, I’ll put my best bet on him.”

“On it!” The Blighter ran off. 

The man huff out his cheeks, “Try finding them now Jacqueline Harlow, Grayson will put their deaths on your grave.”

* * *

_ London — The Strand: Residence _

It’s been a week ever since the reveal of the Joestar family at risk from meeting their fate. Jacqueline made sure she kept a good eye out whenever she leaves to buy food or needs for her son, Julian. 

Ephraim and Evie are aware of the family’s involvement, further speaking about the rivalry. The four of them, journals and books including maps they’ll still need to store in the train hideout. 

“They loathe them,” Jacqueline explained, shifting in her seat “We never faced them, unless our ancestors did but it was one time!”

Jacob playfully flip through the pages of his partner’s journal “Yet, they’re our ticket to find out what Starrick is looking for.”

Ephraim leans forward onto the table, letting his forearms rest on the surface “The Harlow family are not here for now, you two still have time to collect whatever they purchased. Perhaps Evie and I could manage to squeeze in other research.”

“It won’t be the problem, the issue is where are the Joestars located?” Evie held the blond’s hand, squeezing his palm.

“Still nowhere to be found, we would tell the Rooks although I have no clue what they all look like.” Jacqueline pinched the bridge of her nose “I’ll have to ask my family, it’s the only way.”

“Absolutely not,” Ephraim straightens his shoulders “Do you not remember what happened to Grayson years ago?”

So long, yet unforgettable, her uncle mentioned the name of Joestar to the Harlow’s during dinner. Having to cause the whole household to attack the Assassin with words overflowing with venom. Jacqueline and Ephraim were both around thirteen, listening to the shouts and curses, and embracing each other. It was around the time Grayson lost his wife, Beatrice Averett, to the Order.

“Right, forgive me.” The redhead slumps in embarrassment. “The words spewed at my uncle were unacceptable.”

“They all sounded… like her.” Ephraim gulps harshly, the churning in his stomach as he dare not mention  _ her _ name. “I wouldn’t want anything like that happen to you, Jacqueline.”

“It’s a risk dear, we could ask Frederick for assistance. If only Henry were here to keep an eye out.” Evie exhaled through her nose “We can look for them tonight, put everything aside. It will be easier to grab the artifact, then resume back to our core tasks.” She raised her brows, waiting for a response from the three of them.

“It’s impossible, they can be anywhere.” Jacqueline plops his chin on her palm “I propose once we find out where they’re located, we’ll give them a talk. For now, I have word that Wilfred Griffiths is on the loose in Westminster.”

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Jacob rose from his chair, adjusting his cap. 

“I will have to stay to look after Julian. You three can go on without me.” Ephraim grabs a book, research lend by Henry. Usually one of their trusted allies would look after the young Harlow whenever he is needed for a mission. 

“Oh please make sure he is asleep as well, sometimes he would like to wake up to play more with Grayson’s gifts.” The redhead gives a quick embrace to the tall ally, “thank you.”

“Anytime, just make sure to give Griffiths my message once on of you kill him.” 

Evie roll her eyes playfully “ _ Have fun with Hades _ , we know dear.” 

Ephraim shrugs his shoulders, watching the three of them leaving the front door as he is alone. Having the thought of Henry being company, to join him on the research. Especially the new research on Starrick’s new obsession.

* * *

_ London — Westminster _

The carriage ride was rather peaceful and relaxing for once, no signs of Blighters or Templars sneaking up behind their tail. 

“Remember when Mister Dickens invited us around here for one last drink?” Evie reminded, glancing at the pub becoming rowdier each minute. 

Jacqueline pokes her head out of the window of the vehicle “I felt bad not drinking all of the bitter taste of alcohol, although it was funny to watch Mister Dickens reaction.”

“Those were the last days we saw him, before…” Jacob leans back, recalling the news of Dickens' death. 

“Yes… Well, come on Frye—at least we got to know him and go on his abnormal missions.” She chuckled, only listening to his faint snicker.

“We can stop by here, rather not waste more time riding around this borough.” Evie declared “I’ll keep a look out around the palace, Jacob?”

“Parliament and perhaps one of the factories, Griffiths loves it here don’t he?”

“I suppose I'll look around the hospital area, sometimes Griffiths would steal supplies for his men.” The redhead exited out from the carriage “Meet you all back here?”

“At dawn, that should be enough time. Then we’ll head back to the train to gather ourselves.” Evie explained, pulling up her hood as her twin follows her gesture. 

“Great, be careful you two.” Jacqueline ran off, only listening to Jacob shouting back. 

“Don’t die alright?!”

She gave a clipped wave, hurrying to the rooftops to observe her improvement. Briskly this time, no panic of falling or slipping. 

Her body has developed more muscle than before, back when she was the strongest woman to carry buckets coal and boxes of bottles. Southwark was her territory to display her strength prior to her first meeting with the Frye Twins. 

Jacqueline sprints across the rooftops, balancing onto the terracotta—advancing her hold onto ledges of buildings. Catching her breath from her sudden workout, sitting on the edge to admire the view of Westminster. 

The hospital is right across from her sight, spotting the lights from every single window, pondering if it’s mad like the rumored Lambeth Asylum.

“Where are you Griffiths?” She asked herself, any years he’s been hiding from her uncle’s detection. By now, she concludes, Wilfred Griffiths will finally come to his end. 

Gunshots echoed in the distance, Jacqueline spotting birds flying away from danger.

Quickly, she ascends her arm across to zip line above the broad street. The bracer she had to get used to when she declared herself as an ally to the Brotherhood. 

Catching the edge of the rooftop, she hurries to the other side of the building where a driver is shot dead. Blood streaming across the cracks of the cobblestone road. 

A red carriage skidded to stop, a group of Blighters hopping out to ambush the lone vehicle. 

“Mister Griffiths, it’s them!”

“Wilfred!” Jacqueline harshly whispered, making her way down to the pavement. Hiding behind the corner of the alley to spy on her enemy’s tactics.

One of the Blighters dragged a man out by force, having him on his knees as he avoided eye contact. 

“Please! Whatever you need, just ask!” The victim begged as Jacqueline readies her kukri in hand. 

“Tell us where the mask is? Mister...” Griffiths growled as the man kneeling below kept shivering. 

“Answer me!” He strikes his foot against his torso, causing the man to yelp. 

“Joestar! G-George Joestar…”

“What?!” The redhead froze, growing pale from the name repeating in her head. 

“The mask!”

“I don’t have it on me! I swear!”

Wilfred crosses his arms, pacing to the open carriage door. His gray eyes boring through those inside. 

“Drag out the rest, now!” Griffiths commanded as his two allies dragged a shouting woman, who is seen to be covering a child in her arms. 

Jacqueline no longer wasted more time, she swipes out her dagger to throw it across to the nearby Blighter. Running towards the other two as Griffiths gritted his teeth from her sight.

“HARLOW!”

The redhead slides below an advancing swinging his weapon towards her, she rises and struck a dagger behind his back. Piercing to dysfunction his spine, the perfect place Grayson has taught her to make sure the enemy cannot get back up to fight.

The other associate aiming a strike a fist, not expecting the redhead to aim her kukri into his abdomen, tugging it out to pierce his head against the carriage.

“Mary!” George shouted as Griffiths tug out the woman and her child, clutching onto him with her deal life.

“Wilfred!” Jacqueline runs to her, having another ally to grab her behind the blouse, lifting her up to slam her against the pavement. His hands wrapped around her neck, chuckling from her struggle beneath him. Jacqueline places her hands on his wrists, attempting to pry them off.

George widened his eyes in horror, his family is in danger, yet this woman who’s fighting for them lost her fight.

“Miss!”

“I got this! Stay back sir!”

Her hidden blade sliding out to puncture the associate’s wrist, a way to weaken his grip briskly. No time wasted as she slices the blade across his neck. Listening to his chokes and spits of blood, Jacqueline kicks him off to be freed from his weight. 

“JOJO! Give him back!” Mary pleaded by slamming her fists against Griffiths arm, not expecting a slap across the face. Collapsing back, George panics as he ran to her side. 

“Mama!” The young boy cried, struggling under Griffiths grip. The heels of his shoes hitting the Templar hard against his abdomen, growing annoyed from his strength. 

“Enough, you little brat!” He shouted, unsheathing his firearm.

“STOP!” Jacqueline shouted, pulling out her revolver as she stood in front of the Joestars. Focusing more on the safety of the child, the enemy of her son, as her family will presume.

_ I don’t care anymore, he’s still a baby, he needs to live! _

“Give the mask, or I’ll kill the boy!” The barrel prodding against the boy’s arm, which made the redheaded ally grew more furious than ever. 

“I-I don’t have it with me right now… Please sir, my son is not involved with this!”

Griffiths shot a bullet in the sky, making Jonathan cry even more, shushing him with a curse as the redhead did not miss a beat. She hates the use of violent vocabulary, but the Templar has made matters worse. 

“You damn monster! If you don’t give him back to his parents, I swear on my aunt’s grave I will blow your brains out!”

“Shut the hell up! All of you, you have done nothing but harm to us, Jacqueline Harlow!”

“Harlow?” Mary widened her eyes, holding onto her husband’s arm “You…”

Jacqueline felt tension building “I’ll explain later…” She sheathes her firearm, raising her palms, standing straight for Griffiths who kept the sniffling child close to him. 

She turns her head to George who kept stiff, whispering “Sir, if you can, find Frederick Abberline… Tell him to inform Jacob Frye about me.”

“What? Miss you can’t–!”

“Trust me,” She muttered, glancing back at the Templar “Wilfred Griffiths, whatever you want, take me instead—I surrender.”

“That easy? I’ll have to restrain you before you even trick me again.” The Templar chuckled “Like your uncle, sly yet naive.”

“Then do it.”

“Fine.” He walks over, the young boy glancing at the redhead as his eyes were puffy, red, filled with worries. 

The Templar passes him back to Mary, holding him close, crying as he clutch harder on her.

“Miss Harlow wait—!”

“Whatever happens, I cannot let your son die in vain because of me.” She sighed “By the way, you Joestars are not the ones my family spoke about. I guess it’s fabricated.”

“Nor you being vile…” George creased his brows, watching her get restrained, tugging close by Griffiths as he leads her to the carriage.

“Alright let’s go!” He yanked out the kukri from his dead ally “Off to Spitalfields, you remember that place don’t you?”

“I don’t care.”

Griffiths slams Jackie against the carriage door, George shifting forward, but Mary held him back with her free hand. 

“When did you start talking back?” Wilfred fisted her shirt, earning a furrowed brow look from the redhead who did not move an inch. “Stupid like your uncle, it really does run in the family.”

She was shoved inside, hoping her restraints are well enough to escape. If not, she’ll have to find another plan. Assuming the Joestars may not follow her order, unless, they really would risk themselves to save their presume enemy.

George breaks the silence around his family, muttering “That woman… She saved our son.”

Mary tilts her head “Beloved, she’s a Harlow. Your family’s enemy.”

“I’ve listened… but I never knew she’ll have the heart to surrender and save Jojo.” He bows his head, “I have to give her my gratitude.”

“George, we cannot risk our lives—!“

“This woman risk hers to save Jonathan. If she’s dead, I won’t forgive myself. Mary, please… Maybe I could stop this petty rivalry.”

She strokes back her son’s dark locks, kissing his head as he seems to relax his tensed body slowly “We have to find shelter to keep Jojo safe, we cannot bring him with us to find this woman.”

George gulps “You’re right… we’re in the middle of London with no driver as well. It’s already too late to be knocking on doors.”

“This can’t be happening, we need to avoid this part of the city.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be alright, I promise.” George kisses her forehead, leaning to kiss Jonathan’s head too.

A large thud harks behind them, the couple turning around as Jonathan hid his face from the stranger. 

The man adjusted his posture and shoulders, glaring directly at them with his fists curled, quivering in anger. 

“You… What have you done to her?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Insta @hoshi.chill - I usually do fanart and illustrations there :)


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